


Jealous Potions Master's and Seductive Blonde Aristocrat's.

by SlySama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU Summer start of Sixth Year, Confused Harry, Corporal Punishment, Dubious Consent, Harry's Fifteen, Hogwarts Era, Jealous Severus Snape, M/M, Manipulative Draco Malfoy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Snape is Harry's Guardian for the Summer, suspicious friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 01:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: Harry's attitude since Fifth year has been appalling so at the end of the term, he's ordered by Dumbledore to Snape's for the Summer. Snape has been equally given this order, so neither can argue however neither do as they have grown a respect for each other in the days after Harry's profuse apologies and detentions regarding the invasion of memories. So, everything goes alright until three weeks in, Harry's already seen one punishment since and has been given strict rules to follow and consequences should he disobey them, and because he's Harry, and how could Snape know? He enters the Lab where he's been banned looking for headache relieves, Snape returns, having been out, to angry order him downstairs; Harry's sees his second punishment, it's horrible but not as horrible as what comes that night.Only able to tolerate Harry Potter for so long, Severus has gone to drinking--he doesn't do well with alcohol.I apologise for the state of the story before, with some spelling error; I make most of my stories half asleep and since I was really into some music I was listening too. I just went and edited it, so I hope it's alright.There may be one or two still, but I can't get every one.





	Jealous Potions Master's and Seductive Blonde Aristocrat's.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money from writing fanfictions. This is simply done in fun and enjoyment for those in the Potter-verse. 

Jealous Potions Master’s and Seductive Blonde Aristocrats.

‘Harry Potter, get down here, now!’ 

Harry gulped from in his bedroom, or well, technically, it was one of the guest rooms. He wasn’t even 100% sure on what he’d even done now, but he was sure Snape sounded pissed. 

‘Potter, now!’ 

He heard a bang and assumed it was Snape banging on the wall of the staircase. He also knew that should he ignore Snape’s continued calls, he’d be in even more trouble…For something he probably hadn’t even done. He sighed against the closed door, hands both sides of him and tried to think why Dumbledore would make him go and live with Snape for an entire summer; what about Blood Wards? What about Voldemort and his Death Eater’s? What about going to the Weasley’s Burrow? What about Hermione’s? He’d never been there, but it couldn’t hurt, right? 

‘Potter, so help me, if you aren’t down here in the next five seconds!’ The banging sounded again and he was sure Snape was close to putting his entire fist through it. 

To paraphrase Shakespeare; To go downstairs or not to go downstairs, that is the question. 

‘P-o-t-t-a!! N-OW!’ 

Harry gulped again and screwed his eyes tightly shut. Okay, so Snape was stressing his words and drawing them out; bad sign. Better go downstairs and face the music, or an angry Snape putting it accurately. Before things got worse and Snape used him in that night’s Potions Experiment—the man was partial to them. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Doomed. Doomed. He was so doomed. 

He edged his way out of his safety zone and down the stairs, looking like that child that had been caught in the act of doing something they shouldn’t. The man was scowling intently and holding his wand firmly in his hand at the bottom. Harry stopped halfway down, one foot still poised in the air at the sight, and swallowed thickly—it wasn’t an easy feat. 

‘Pro—Professor…How’s things?’ He choked. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing; he was mental, absolutely mental, he had to be. Snape was going to kill him, he knew it, for real this time. 

‘Down here, now.’ His ebony wand pointed to the step just before himself. 

Harry didn’t move. 

‘Now.’ He growled. 

‘You, um…’ 

‘Now, Potter, it isn’t an option.’ Snape’s voice grew quieter and this was when Harry fully understood that he was in trouble; it was 10x worse than if the man had still been shouting—The Potioneer was furious. This couldn’t end well for Harry. 

‘Ye-Yes Professor.’ He stepped down slowly, slower than necessary. The ebony haired Professor was still scowling, harder than ever, by the time Harry was stood before him, on the last step. Snape’s wand was now sparking; definitely bad signs, seriously bad signs for Harry’s wellbeing. 

‘Is-Is something the matter, Professor?’ He hated how his voice kept wavering and adding “Professor” onto to most of his sentences. 

‘Mm.’ Snape’s dark eyes seemed even darker than usual, if that were possible and Harry couldn’t help but wipe at the back of his neck, pulling at his collar nervously. He was scared, he could admit that. ‘Do you understand my rules?’ Snape tapped his wand against his own palm and Harry watched it with his green eyes, dearly wishing for his own Holly and that he could actually perform magic away from school, but, Snape had confiscated it the moment his student had entered his home and, well, Harry was only 15. 

‘Y-yes Professor.’ FUCK. Stupid quaver. 

‘Hmm. Do you? And, remind me if you would, what are they?’ 

Fucking rules. They were almost as worse as Uncle Vernon’s…Sort of. Harry hesitated over saying anything however, fucking complicated fucking rules. He was sure his mouth would be washed out with soap, if Snape ever heard him swear that way aloud. His aunt had done it once—it wasn’t pleasant. 

Let’s see then, there was… 

1] “Don’t touch my Laboratory.”  
2] “Don’t touch my Laboratory.”  
3] Now this one was completely different. “Don’t enter my Laboratory without my express permission, under any circumstances, is that clear?” 

All three were basically identical.  
Next was… 

4] “Do not touch the Fireplace or the Floo Powder, you are not to go anywhere.”  
5] “Don’t you dare set foot in my room, there will be severe consequences. Clear?”  
6] “You read my books, you don’t bend them, you don’t crumble their pages, you don’t eat near them or drink near them and you put them back where you found them.” 

Like he needed to really be told 5 and 6…Why would he ever want to enter the man’s private room and why would he even dream of even accidently getting a papercut with one of Snape’s precious books. He had a bookworm friend, he knew what these types were like with their books. They were precious. He wasn’t suicidal gees and the seventh in the number of possible rules that sounded more like they were Orders, and was pretty much exactly identical to rule Four, 

7] “Do not leave this house.” 

Harry wasn’t sure if they were the rules Snape mentioned or not, so he wasn’t sure if he should say them, in case they were wrong and in saying them he got in more trouble for not paying attention when he had been told them; so, he remained silent and ended up cringing as he heard the harder tapping of wood on skin. 

‘Mister Potter, I am waiting.’ The heel of his boot tapped in time, this time. Who wears boots inside anyways? 

Oh. 

‘Were you out Professor?’ It was probably, admittedly, not the smartest choice he could have made as he was being loomed over by his resentful and nasty Potions Master. 

‘Yes. The rules Potter. Now.’ He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he were tired or he was getting a headache. Maybe it was a mixture of both? Maybe Harry could wear the older man down? Snape looked back up. Harry shook his head mentally, nope, maybe not. Snape’s eyes were as dark as ever and harder as he stared directly into Harry’s quivering emerald ones. 

‘Don’t…Don’t enter your Lab?’ He guessed, hoping it might have been the right answer. 

‘Is that a question?’ He raised both eyebrows in incredulity, foot and wand pausing their taps in clear astonishment of the teen that stood before him, that, or clear knowledge that Harry was incredibly stupid. 

Harry quickly shook his raven locks, whipping the lengthening strands around his cheeks. He might need to get a bit of a haircut—not that his hair liked it. ‘Ye-uh-No!! No. it’s not a question…’ He quickened. 

There was a further pause. 

Harry swallowed, eyes flicking elsewhere. 

‘Correct. You are not to enter my Laboratory and do you remember what I said the consequence would be if you disobeyed that rule and did as such?’ 

Harry almost choked on his saliva as he swallowed again. Consequence? There had been a consequence? An actual, for real, dangerous endangering Harry’s life, consequence? For stepping maybe just a toe past the doorway? 

The potions master sighed heatedly as Harry remained silent and fiddled with the fraying hem of his wizarding phrase shirt. ‘I thought not. Listen carefully Potter, so you don’t miss it this time.’ He put a harshness into his words. ‘If you enter my Lab under any circumstances without my express permission the consequence would be thus…’ His words trailed as he grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck, reaching around abruptly, this wasn’t much of a feat, spun the recalcitrant teen as he floundered until both of his thieving attempted hands had no choice but to grab the stair rail and brought his hand back. 

Harry blanched, trying to stand up. 

SMACK. 

Harry yowled, green eyes glaring behind him intensely. 

‘You will receive 10, this time, but you enter it again Brat, and you’ll be sorry. You won’t be sitting comfortably for a week.’ He hissed. 

Harry breathed heavily through five of them, started to grit his teeth by eight of them and by nine of them he was trying hard not to shed a tear; the man seemed to be smacking harder the closer he got to 10. By the last smack to his buttocks, Harry’s knuckles were white on the railing. He’d be surprised if there weren’t dents after the bastard allowed him to stand straight again. ‘Now.’ He grabbed Harry’s hair as he spoke and pulled until he was standing upright, gritting his teeth and looking back at Snape upside down, body still turned away. ‘Do you understand my rules this time?’ 

‘Yes’ Harry hissed. 

‘Yes?’ 

‘Yes Sir’ Harry ground. 

A nod and the strands of tangled raven were released from the older man’s tight grasp. Fucking hurt! Harry thought, rubbing the spot with a glare as he turned and stared at the retreating man’s back. ‘Bastard’ He whispered, sitting his butt gingerly on the bottom stair and continuously rubbing the spot in which Snape had grabbed a fist of his tangled locks and pulled harshly. The Potioneer couldn’t possibly be allowed to treat Harry this way over break? First off, he was a teenager thank you, sixteen in fact, he was almost of age in the Wizarding World, not Five. Second of all, Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be allowing Snape free reign of whatever he wished, right? That was dangerous. The old man couldn’t be that senile. 

The raven stayed there, on the last step until he smelled something good and headed for the kitchen. He stood at the door, leaning on the frame and waited until the older man acknowledged that he was there. It was a good five minutes. 

Snape was making the food himself. ‘I am not in the mood.’ He said, not looking up. ‘So, sit down, shut up and eat.’ He sat himself down at one end of the table, the food arranging themselves atop it and Harry quietly sat himself down at the other. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

‘Professor?’ 

Snape sighed. 

‘Professor…?’ He tried again, wary. 

The man sighed again but still didn’t acknowledge Harry any more than that. His eyes were cast down at a book he’d been reading for the last hour, but, well to be honest, Harry wasn’t sure the man was still reading as he hadn’t turned a page in quite some time now. They retired here, to the library after dinner-time every night since Harry had arrived at the man’s summer home. It was a little boring though as there wasn’t anything to do but sit and read or stare at Snape doing so, or the fire he supposed, he could stare into the yellow flames of the fire—he was sure Snape wanted to constantly keep him in sight, so he wouldn’t get into any mischief before retiring to bed, so this was why they had leisure time here. 

Harry was sure he probably had some monitoring spells on his body too, how else would Snape have known about Harry’s attempt into the Lab? He’d wanted a headache reliever and since he didn’t know where Snape kept them, he’d thought they might be there and the man hadn’t been home at the time…It was the only logical conclusion, as far as the raven was concerned. 

‘Professor Snape, sir?’ 

The ebony-haired man sighed once more and snapped his book shut, removed the spectacles that Harry had been surprised to see the first time he’d arrived—he used them to read apparently but didn’t use them at Hogwarts. He set the book and the glasses down in his lap. ‘What Potter, what is it? What do you want?’ He looked up. 

Harry quickly snapped his mouth shut and stared back down at his own text. 

‘What Potter, what is it? Spit it out.’ 

‘It-It was just…I was just…’ He worried his lip and pushed his own frames back up his nose as they slipped forward. ‘I was just wondering about this text…?’ He held up the book to face the stern man and, placing his silver frames back on his roman nose and standing, he grabbed the book out of Harry’s hands. He stood over Harry. 

‘What about it? It’s a standard spell for your age Potter, you should know it.’ 

Harry flushed. ‘But what do you—’ 

Snape’s eyes flashed and he snapped the book shut, onyx eyes blinking at the title on the white and gold bound hard cover. ‘Don’t you even dare finish that.’ He wondered why Potter had picked up such a book in the first place, let alone how he’d come to find it in the Library among many, many other texts; it was the only one. He shoved it back into the bookcase. ‘Go to bed.’ He ordered. 

‘But I…’ 

‘Bed, now.’ His finger pointed to the opened doorway. 

Harry sighed as he pushed himself to his feet and slouched, pout-like as he exited the Library. He’d honestly wanted to know…And though it was embarrassing he’d wanted to see Snape’s reaction when he told him. He had a faint idea what the spell was used for but it wasn’t like he knew much about it. But alas, he pouted completely and made his way back to his temporary bedroom, closing the door with a click and shedding himself of clothing entirely. 

It was humid. 

He fell back onto the mattress and sighed as the soft sheets seemed to caress and instantly cool his entire body. They were 100% Egyptian cotton—they were amazingly soft and smooth. Taking his glasses off and placing them on the bedside table effortlessly, the raven brushed back his messy hair, leaned back into his pillows and slowly ran a hand down his toned sun-kissed torso. He stopped just above the V of his hip, the tips of his fingers millimeters away from the very tip of his growing shaft. 

This probably wasn’t the time or place, well, he supposed it was the time considered he was told to go to bed by an irritable and unwavering Snape, but it definitely wasn’t the place. In Snape’s home? He has to be insane! Strangely though, his cock didn’t wilt at the thought of Snape briefly, in fact, his mind supplied himself instead with a forgotten imagery from months ago. Oh who was he kidding? From weeks ago, of when he had been punished for the first time here, of Snape first putting those reading glasses on his huge nose with those huge hands that weren’t even that potion-stained and of the delicious food that he actually cooked and of the man’s sexy as fuck voice. 

His voice always did Harry in, it made it that much harder when he’d realised, to pay attention in the man’s Potions class. He moaned lowly and moved his hand over his heated penis. Slowly at first, he stroked, the fingers tentatively running up and down the length, his thumb rubbing a little against the head and feeling as it welled up with pre-cum. Then he wrapped his fingers around it and stroke by stroke his hand became a blur on his hard flesh—his head was shoved into the pillow, face breathing into the soft material in gasps, back arching and his moans becoming louder. 

SNAPE’S POV. 

‘To think…The nerve of that insolent little Brat.’ He huffed, shaking his shoulder length ebony hair out of his face, removing his spectacles and taking up the Bottle of Ogden’s from his usually locked Liquor Cabinet. He didn’t often break it open—He didn’t manage so well with the substance. He was always worried he’d turn into his horrible Father. He stood with the bottle in one hand and his tumble in the other already half empty, and he’d poured three times as he spoke aloud. He drained his third glass, ‘Best go up and see if the whelp is actually doing as I asked.’ He stepped out of the Library and headed for the stairs on slightly wobbly un-socked feet. He walked down the hallway toward the boy’s temporary room; it was the second on the left from the end of the Hallway, furthest away from Severus’ own bedroom but no less protected should the brat attempt a Flee or get into mischief whilst they were here at Severus’ Mother’s Ancestral Home. 

He’d been surprised to receive it upon his seventeenth Birthday, as his Mother never had. He didn’t often come here, having had a mutual dislike of his maternal grandparents—they had treated him poorly because his Father had been a Muggle and they treated their own daughter with if not more distaste because she’d married such a disgusting man—this wasn’t even because he was a Muggle but a drunk and family beater. He huffed. But since he’d had to take Potter this summer vacation on Dumbledore’s Order’s and he didn’t have the space or the comfortable furnishing at his usual dwelling in Spinner’s End, there dwelt his reason for being in this hole. 

He had horrible memories here, he’d expect his Mother had worse when she was still alive and they’d occasionally come by to get away from his Father; if they could. 

‘Potter?’ He stumbled as he deeply whispered the boy’s name into the wood of the door. Perhaps he’d had a bit too much of Old Ogden’s? He mused. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Harry groaned and whimpered into the pillow, one hand firmly around his aching pulsing shaft, the other now at his perineum; he wasn’t quite game enough yet to try putting his finger inside his hole. He’d only recently come out to his friends as Gay, and that was only because he found kissing Oliver Wood at some recent weekend party at Hogsmeade during school term, to be a lot nicer than kissing say…Cho, Luna or Ginny.  
This was equally hard to come to terms with for himself, that he preferred the company of other men. Hard, muscly, milky white men, men that could dominate him—though why his body seemed to want that considering his entire life, he had no idea. 

‘Potter?’ 

Harry tensed immediately. 

‘Potter?’ It came again. 

So, it wasn’t his imagination? Shit, He thought, trying hard not to come on the spot as he was so close that his fingertip had actually edged just inside the furled skin—tight and pulsing as he pumped himself. He tried to keep his noises low and muffled by the soft pillow. If he didn’t say anything, maybe the bastard would walk away? 

Pause. 

‘Potter. Are you in there?’ 

‘Shit’ Guess not. Where else would he be precisely? He made a scrunched face up at the darkened ceiling and couldn’t help but groan as his body responded with a twitch of his anus. He quickly covered his mouth, eyes wide as the door suddenly began to creak open, edged by long fingers curled around the splintering old wood—dark eyes peered into the darkness, illuminated by the small bit of moonlight that filtered through Harry’s closed curtains. 

Harry almost swore aloud, Fuck, that shit is creepy! He heaved a breath, closing his eyes for just a second to calm his racing heart. It was made creepier by the man whispering deeply into the dark room, ‘Potter I’d appreciate an…an…’ His voice started to trail as he stumbled into the room, his onyx eyes readjusting themselves steadily to the lighting and landing immediately on Harry’s buck naked, flushing, sweating, and huffing form spread out on the mattress tantalisingly with his legs spread, one hand around his member, his other disappeared between his legs. ‘…swer…’ Snape audibly swallowed. 

Harry swallowed in reply as he tried to quickly cover himself with the rolled-up comforter at his feet. He scrambled more than enough that the comforter merely rolled to the carpet of the room and Harry’s body was put on further view for his Professor—who stood there frozen in the centre of the room, a meter from Harry’s heaving body. 

Harry sat, body arched forward over the mattress, trying his hardest not to make his arse go up in the air, his arm outstretched over the side reaching desperately. He even had his fingers wrapped around the material when he heard a gravelly voice say ‘Stop’. 

He froze. 

‘Potter stop.’ In the next second Harry was being pushed back by the comforter realigning to the mattress and over Harry’s naked form, covering him up to the navel. He watched as the blanket fell over him softly, watched as his stomach rose up and down in stuttering breaths, watched as, out the corner of his eye, Snape jerked from Harry’s involuntary moan of arousal; his cock had just been rubbed by the soft material, grazing over his sensitive head. 

Was that natural? Or had Snape’s magic done that? He wondered idly. 

He blinked around his panting mouth and the blurriness that was Snape’s shadow. ‘Pro-Professor?’ He was out breath as he felt another rub of material definitely graze the head of his penis. Snape seemed just as out of breath as he did, he even choked on his next words. 

‘Mister—’ Cough. ‘Mister Potter…’ Harry frowned beneath his sweat soaked fringe and licked dry lips. He adjusted himself inconspicuously under the comforter; Snape’s presence in the room was doing nothing to deter Harry’s erection, it was only making it harder. He watched cautiously as Snape came closer, slowly, his wand now back in his waistcoat. The raven could have been seeing things, he could have been dreaming it all, Snape in his room, he could have simply fallen into a blissfully erotic dream after sating himself but he didn’t think that was what was happening right now. ‘Potter’ Harry distinctly heard the growl in the elder’s voice now—it sent shivers racing up Harry’s spine. Before he could stop himself, he was moaning again. ‘Why…Precisely…’ He very clearly heard the teacher’s step forward, heard the swallow and felt the bump of Snape’s knees as the they hit the edge of the mattress, ‘…Are you masturbating…in my house…’ He sounded like he was in a sort of trance. 

Harry licked his lips again, ‘Um…’ How does one exactly answer a question like that? Do you answer it honestly? “Yeah Professor, I’m wanking off in the room you guested to me for my stay this summer because you make me extremely horny?” Yeah fucking right, he wasn't about to say to Snape. Though, at the moment, Harry wasn’t sure what was going on. His eyebrow wrinkled in deep confusion at the half-lidden stare of his teacher, the predatory look that seemed to flicker in the deep depths of the obsidian orbs staring down at him; okay, either Snape had temporarily lost all sanity or that odour Harry could briefly smell was Snape being extremely fucking drunk. 

The dark-haired Professor began to peel the comforter back, without warning from Harry’s lust induced body, dragging it across the sensitive cock—this caused Harry to arch up, sit straight, bend his knees and press his feet into the mattress. Ready to dig his toes in. Oh, he understood at least half of what was about to take place here, though he wasn’t sure if he should stop it or let it continue—his body seemed to have made up his mind without him. 

He was…Extremely horny. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Harry flushed as his hands were magicked above his head, restrained there like they were chained to the bed posts. Snape’s hands were, on the other hand, the ones currently making Harry’s body arch entirely off the mattress and prickle with goosebumps at the impending…well…Impending whatever. 

He moaned loudly as his body arched even further, his feet barely staying atop the sheet; this pushed his cock deeper into the mouth of Snape as the man sucked him expertly, shoving a finger almost gently inside of him simultaneously. Harry faulted out Snape’s title as Teacher and Master when the man in question abruptly stopped everything he was doing—his finger deep inside the hot channel, hearing Harry’s keening voice. 

The momentary pause in movement was followed by Snape’s hands turning him roughly around; thankfully Harry’s magicked hands went with it and weren’t twisted painfully. His arse was pulled up instantly and his face dropping to the pillow beneath it. A hot air was breathed onto his cheeks then, fingers now digging harshly into his sides, the one inside removed roughly with a torn out cry, Snape was pushing his—In Harry’s Opinion—rather impressive length and girth inside of him, barely any preparation involved. This, to Harry as he cried out in shock and shuddered at the tearing pain, was something of a feat. 

Compared to his unprepared and never been touched anus, the contrast was a lot. 

…

The moans the both of them ended up emitting were loud and drawn out, and very clearly echoed around the Manor. 

Not that there was really anyone to hear it. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Harry groaned, turned over and promptly fell out of the bed with an ‘Oomph!’ followed by a cry of pain for his head as it smacked the thin carpet and for his hyperaware over- sensitised arse. It hurt, fuck, it hurt so much. 

His eyes were watery as he sat there. He got a grouchy response from up on the bed and slowly he stood to his bare feet. Oh, okay, sooo…The night before hadn’t been a nice dream, an erotic one to be sure and the pain in his butt wasn’t phantom. Alright. They’d really had, Harry’d really done…He groaned again and rubbed down the side of his face as he stared across the messed mattress at the few ebony strands that stuck above the comforter. 

What now? 

‘Shut up, go back to sleep’ was grouched and the blanket pulled tighter up over the head. Seriously? Harry thought, shocked he uttered a retort. 

‘Professor, get up.’ He felt like he’d just done something incredibly irreversibly stupid. This man would not have slept with Harry unless he really was entirely drunk and not remotely thinking; sure, the man could tolerate Harry, limitedly, and they had come to some sort of mild truce at some point during their forced Occlumency Lessons so that Harry was no longer assaulted but explained to, but there was no way in hell that Snape would sleep with Harry sober. 

He swallowed, blinking back tears then sighed as he clutched at his head and at his midsection—feeling sick. 

Snape grouched further and pulled the blanket yet further over the top of his head, disappearing completely beneath it. But Harry wasn’t going to allow for this and promptly tore the material out of the man’s tight grasp; luckily, this was 100% Egyptian cotton and so not easily shredded. The onyx eyes were immediately on him, glowering up at him, seeming bloodshot and probably more than a little hungover as they were still narrowed like the man had trouble opening them. 

The raven stood back, ready to be cursed any minute. He held the comforter to himself and his nakedness, and tried not to let his emotions show as the Teacher sprang up from the mattress, grabbed the comforter out of Harry’s fingers and promptly screeched at him, ‘Out Potter!!’ the man was holding the material like he was the one that had just been fucked. Fucked good, fucked hard, fucked like he wasn’t a virgin. 

Harry was never good at hiding his emotions from his features; he frowned. ‘It’s my bedroom Professor…’ But before the man could comprehend that, he quickly rushed to his wardrobe, grabbed out a set of fresh clothes and hastily dashed for the adjourning bathroom. He slammed it shut then slid down it, his clothes pooling beside his thighs. He couldn’t help when the tears slid down his cheeks, despite desperately trying to scrub them away. He’d tried to hold them, he’d tried but he couldn’t help the emotions that welled up that he’d been taken, and taken well and fierce…BY HIS PROFESSOR, by SNAPE. 

He slammed the back of his head against the wooden door, hard. 

He really fucking had… 

‘Mister Potter?’ There was a knock on the bathroom door and Harry continued to fiercely scrub at his eyes. He scrambled to get dressed in case Snape thought to open the door and rip any further privacy away from him. He was still scrubbing at his eyes as he scrubbed at his teeth and pushed open the door; he was disappointed when the bastard took a step back and missed being hit by the doors path. 

Harry walked straight by the now fully clothed pervert, picked up his glasses, put them on hastily and walked straight out the room, not a word toward the man behind him. 

They really fucking had… 

Snape followed him, ‘Mister Potter.’ 

Snape had taken his…Snape had taken Harry’s virginity. 

SNAPE’S POV. 

He was fully clothed with a scowl to his set features, striding quickly after the retreating teen, he was skipping two, three steps at a time to keep up with the brat but a meter ahead of him—he seemed to have gotten a cramp in his leg last night that refused to go away and the idiot was fast. 

‘Mister Potter.’ 

‘Mister Potter, you take one more step.’ He growled, finally catching up and clapping onto the brat’s stiff shoulder and squeezing, harshly. He heard the teen hiss as he tried to remove the hand by simply shrugging it away. Severus held on tighter. 

[ ] [ ] [ ]

‘Mister Potter, you take one more step.’ Harry hissed and tried to shrug the hand from his shoulder, it only tightened and then moved to around his neck, spinning him to face Snape’s pure black eyes; the man looked uneasily angered. Well Harry supposed that made some sense—you wouldn’t be sure if you were supposed to be angry if you were the one that had fucked your student and the student hadn’t had any say…More or less. 

Harry scrubbed at his eyes again beneath his glasses, they were red and blotchy and swollen, he knew. ‘Or what Professor, what will you do?’ He asked defeatedly. 

‘There are consequences for your actions Potter, you are not to step one more foot near that door.’ He pointed with his free hand and Harry immediately scowled his displeasure, his anger and his upset…ness. 

‘Oh?’ He said sarcastically. ‘So, there aren’t any for yours?’ He mocked, jerking himself away with a painful hiss and marching over to the door anyway. His hand was on the doorhandle, ready to open. 

‘Potter, don’t start.’ Harry didn’t speak. He just went to open the door—the door was knocked on. They both froze, Snape’s hand now atop Harry’s on the ornate gold doorhandle. Harry was still scowling fiercely and tried to remove his own but with Snape’s heavy on top of it, it was a difficult task. 

The door was knocked on again.

‘Who is it?’ 

‘It’s Draco Malfoy, Severus. Can I come in?’ He seemed to be laughing on the other side; it was rather ridiculous considering the man should have already known there was someone on his grounds, he had wards, let alone that it was Draco because he’d been here before. The situation seemed less ridiculous however, to Harry, when Snape pushed him to the side where he slammed into the wall roughly, and opened the door with an even larger scowl on his features, no apologies for his treatment and no concerns for Harry. 

‘Young Mister Malfoy, what are you doing here?’ 

Harry watched as the blonde raised his eyebrows, from his spot leaning against the wall, half slouched and his legs spread unconsciously apart in order not to fall over the umbrella stand between them—or drop down onto the umbrella that was in it. ‘I’m here for you to distribute your wisdom and potions skill, you were going to help with my apprenticeship?’ He seemed unsure now, his grey eyes flicking to the side, where he could, Harry was sure at least see half of him bowed. ‘Potter, is that you?’ He asked incredulously. Clearly it was enough of him. ‘What are you doing here?’ Because, normally, Harry would not be at Snape’s Ancestry Home, for a Holiday. 

Malfoy stepped inside and tried to close the door but Harry, quickly moving, held it open around the thin milky white fingers. They brushed and Harry made note of the silver ring glinting on the middle finger of his right hand. ‘Don’t worry, Malfoy, I’m not here for much longer, so be my guest. Come in.’ He waved behind him in welcome, a mocking fashion of an arm swish as he rushed from the door before Snape could round Malfoy’s blocking body to stop him. 

Harry let the door go and smirked as he heard the yell from the other side as it slammed in the man’s annoyed face. 

SNAPE’S POV. 

‘Potter!!’ Severus yelled. He ignored the blonde brat beside him who flinched as he banged open the door and raced down the path after the running idiot before the moron could leave the safety of the grounds and be captured by actual Death Eater’s—where he would then be tortured, raped x 20 and then brutally killed. 

It was a lot worse than him, he’d guarantee it. 

He knew what he’d done. Blind drunk or not, he wasn’t proud of himself but there was a certain part of him that relished in having done something so, well, sinful to James Potter’s son, then of course, he had to go and reflect that Potter was in fact Lily’s son too and then the shame set in again and he wanted to curse himself into repeat smacking of his head into a brick wall. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

MALFOY’S POV. 

Draco stood completely forgotten by the door, laughing as he watched the both of them run down the pathway. It was like cat and mouse, he thought. His stay was going to be a very interesting one, to say the least. He closed the door, picked up his suitcase and promptly went upstairs. 

They’d be back soon, he was sure of it. 

How hard could it be to catch a runaway Potter? 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

‘Potter!’ 

Harry kept running as he heard the Potioneer. He spun on his heel when he reached the very edge of the wards and disappeared with Snape’s angry gaze and his hand reaching out to grab him before he apparated. 

He appeared in the middle of the high street of Diagon Alley and promptly checked if he was all still in one piece; he’d never apparated before, and walked quickly down the end of the Alley where he knew, Fred and George had grown their Joke Shop—Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes or W.W.W; there were a lot of shoppers and a lot were staring at Harry’s sudden appearance. 

‘Fred, George?’ He asked uncertainly as he skidded inside. 

‘Why ‘Ello there Harry.’ He was leaning on the wall of the stairs dressed in a bright orange suit with a florescent green tie and brown leather shoes; his hair stood on end as if he'd just been electrocuted. 

‘What do we owe the delighted pleasure? Want some instant darkness powder again? Or how about one our new products, it’ll blow your mind. Though, not literally of course, we’ve repeat tested and tried that. Shouldn’t still be doing it…’ He was leaning on the railing at the bottom of the step; they were dressed identical and wore identical smiles. It was always so hard to tell them apart but this was just ridiculous. 

Harry ignored the muttered part and avoided answering entirely. He didn’t want to become a test subject he rather liked himself the way he was, despite constantly being shadowed by Voldemort every year or so. ‘Can I borrow your shop for a hiding spot?’ He wasn’t a 100% they’d let him, it was awfully busy in here today. He stared around awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck as he waited for an answer to his strange request. 

They looked to each other and spoke in sync. ‘We can do one better, hide upstairs all you like.’ They didn’t ask why, simply pointed him upwards. 

‘Thanks’ He hurried up the stairs where they pointed, quickening his strides when he heard a distinct yell from outside; Snape had obviously followed him. Again. Shit, he thought, banging open the door, banging it closed again and leaned firmly against it, his eyes tight shut. 

‘Harry?’ 

He jumped when his name was called and he opened his emeralds. ‘Oh’ His friends stood there, staring at him from the sofa and behind the counter of the kitchen holding a butterbeer in hand. They were staring with clear intentions to ask him why he was here and not with Snape. ‘I um…’ He tried to answer before one of them could ask, but biting the inside of his cheek—it was a wonder there was any skin left—he couldn’t seem to find anything to say. He remained where he was, hesitating when Hermione finally asked anyway with more than a bit of scepticism. 

‘Harry’ she put heavy emphasis on his name ‘Why are you here?’ 

‘Umm…’ He floundered. 

‘PO-T-T-A. Get. Out. Here. NOW!’ 

‘Professor how lovely to see you at our Joke Shop.’ 

‘Want some Jokes?’ 

Were Fred and George trying to stall him? Distract him? Harry swallowed thickly, leaning heavier against the scarred wooded door. 

‘Harry’ Hermione narrowed her brown eyes. She was closer. 

‘Umm…It’s uh, it’s complicated?’ He laughed nervously, hearing Snape begin pounding on the door of Fred and George’s upstairs home. Their voices were loudly asking inane questions which though they were trying and Harry was thanking them for it mentally, it probably wasn’t helping Snape’s deteriorating mood. He would definitely pay them back for this later though, with something awesome. 

‘Mate…Have you been crying or something?’ Ron was frowning as he placed his bottle on the counter and advanced too. Harry didn’t say anything and just closed his apparently tell-tale tear-reddened eyes as he felt magic flow through the wood. It bowed under the strain and he hoped the twins would bug Snape enough that maybe he would actually get fed up and leave? 

He wasn’t going back, how could he stay in that Manor with Snape, all summer, after what they had done? After, well, could anybody willingly subject themselves to that? 

‘Harry…’ She spoke slowly, edging closer like one would when approaching an easily frightened animal. He blinked. ‘Is there something you’re not telling us? We’re here for you if you need any help.’ He kept quiet and looked down at his shoes, hands pressed firmly against the door behind him. 

‘Potter, so help me. Will the both of you, Shut Up!’ 

Harry almost snorted, especially when they actually did. He slumped a little against the door and bit his inner cheek once more. He really was surprised that there was any skin still inside his mouth; he had been biting it so much lately. 

‘Mate?’ Ron stepped closer too, just as cautious as the door bowed inwards. 

‘Harry, what did you do?’ Hermione asked, her eyes wary as the door bowed further in and actually moved Harry forwards a step. You could hear the muttering of Snape’s spells from the other side—his voice was angered. The spells no longer silent in his rage. ‘Why is Professor Snape so angry with you, you weren’t disrespectful in his home were you?’ She sounded almost as if he were a lost cause there and he frowned momentarily. 

Then a thought occurred to him, where was Malfoy? Had he been left behind? Or had he gone back to his own Manor, because Harry would be thankful if he did. The raven avoided his friend’s questions and looked elsewhere, it wasn’t like he could just tell them, “Yeah well, Snape is angry because I ran out of his house because he drunkenly slept with me last night...And I liked it.” Yeah, that’d go over so well. 

He was not that stupid. 

The door finally made a last creaking noise and was blown off its hinges. Two wary voices replied, ‘Aw man, Professor, we’d just gotten that fixed.’ Thankfully Hermione and Ron had pulled him clear in time that he hadn’t been taken out by the door. He did have a few splinters though, he was plucking one out hastily when Snape entered the apartment; he was livid, wand held high and aimed straight at Harry’s heaving chest. He looked predatory, but unlike the night before, Harry knew he wasn’t going to be fucked, he was going to be fucking dead. 

He gulped and stumbled over his feet to get behind his friends, splinters forgotten. He apologised mentally, cringing all the while. Honestly, he was supposed to be the Defeater of Voldemort, how was he going to do that, if he couldn’t even face down an angry livid Potions Professor? ‘You’ Snape paused, enunciating each word with a piercing glare and jab of his wand into the air. ‘Are coming. With me. Now.’ 

Harry blinked and grabbed his friend’s shoulders tighter, shielding behind them. He ignored their hisses, feeling extremely pathetic. 

‘I mean it Potter. Do not make me cast stupefy on your worthless hide and forcefully drag you back to the house.’ Harry swallowed again, almost choking on his own saliva. He knew the man would do it too but Harry couldn’t subject himself to that type of torture. ‘What occurred last night, Potter, was not intentional I assure you. It will not happen again, that’s for sure.’ He whispered into Harry’s ear as he pushed the duo aside. He was holding Harry’s shoulders in a vice-like grip almost instantaneously. Whimpering a little, Harry closed his eyes, well, yeah, obviously, he knew that, of course Snape hadn’t done it on purpose, that was the problem. He wanted the man to do it again, and he knew that the man never would, at least not intentionally. 

‘You should not be outside the Manor, Potter, those were the rules.’ He growled this, pushing his fingers into Harry’s shoulders harder. There would be bruises, adding to the ones that he already had no doubt, from being thrown against the wall at the Manor. 

‘Why can’t I stay with the Weasley’s, with Ron?’ He tried, looking to the redhead desperately. Ron simply shook his head, saying they’d love him but wards hadn’t been prepared for Harry, it took months for this, the burrow wasn’t safe for Harry without them and there was probably a good reason for Harry to be with Snape this summer considering Dumbledore had placed him there. He looked sceptical at his own words here but he awkwardly shrugged one shouldered, apologetic. 

Harry moaned in distress. ‘Hermione then?’ He knew before he’d even voiced it of course that she would shake her bouncy hazelnut curls and pretty much say the exact same thing. Her brown eyes held the same scepticism for Dumbledore’s choice and obviously with the current scene where Harry was running away and looking desperately to his friends for help. Perhaps if they’d heard Snape’s whispered words it would be an entirely different tune but he didn’t think that was the case. 

They all knew that there would be conflict. 

‘You. Are. Coming. With. Me. Now.’ The fingers now around his upper arm dug hard as a wand pressed into his side with a sneer—his friends couldn’t see this, on the other side of him as they were. Harry gulped and tried to squirm away. He looked toward the twins, eyes pleading as they leaned against the splintered door frame of their apartment; they looked wary. 

‘Fred…George…’ 

They slowly shook their ginger heads, blue eyes closed and mouths firmly shut. No matter that Harry was there number one patron and had actually gave them the money to have this Joke Shop in the first place—his winnings for the Triwizard Tournament. No matter that Harry had a clear desperate look, but the uneasiness that circled the room swayed them into nothing. Was he doomed? Doomed to spend the rest of his summer with Snape, with a man that well, he didn’t like the man, per sae, but he didn’t hate the man either and well, he turned Harry on, like, Fuck, but… 

HeStillDidn’tWantToSpendHisEntireSummerStuckInSnape’sHomeWithSnape!! 

And Malfoy. 

Harry slowly fell to his knees, unable to help the helpless sob that escaped as he did so. This caused a quiet shock of stares from the occupants of the room, including Snape himself, who, quickly, withdrew his wand and tucked it back inside his jacket. 

‘Potter, what, on, earth, are you doing?’ Harry made no move to answer him, just kept his eyes firmly shut, as they now were, and willed himself to not make another damning sound. If he had too, he’d remain mute for the entire summer, ignore everyone and starve himself in the process…As an example. 

No one ever said he could think logically all the time when stressed. 

Snape repeated himself, ‘Potter, what are you doing?’ his voice was angrier. 

Harry remained mute, hands loose and overlapped between his knees. 

‘Harry? Exactly what is going on? You hadn’t made such a big fuss when Professor Dumbledore mentioned you were to stay with Professor Snape for the summer. Why now?’ She asked. Harry heard her steps as she slipped closer. Well, why would he make such a big fuss? He and Snape had been on relatively good terms for months though Snape never showed it outside their Occlumency Lessons. It had been Dumbledore’s request, order really, so that couldn’t be ignored and Dumbledore couldn’t be argued with, besides he’d seen the man angry recently he didn’t wish to see it again because Harry kicked up a big fuss, not even Snape had. And of course, there was the little fact that Snape hadn’t fucking slept with him yet. Of course, Harry was going to object when there was a Snape that was easily drunk and easily threatening to Harry’s wellbeing and his weakness to the man’s sexy ass voice and hands and… ‘Fuck!’ Harry swore, he was starting to think about last night when Snape had…had…Had taken his fucking virginal as fuck cherry. 

Eyebrows went up. It wasn’t often Harry swore. 

‘Mister Potter.’ It was a growl. 

‘Mate, did Snape do something to you?’ 

Harry very nearly choked at Ron’s words. 

He could have sworn that Snape did too. 

Perhaps he made some slight noise or maybe they both did, but Hermione when she called the Professor’s title, was terse. 

‘Miss Granger?’ He inclined. 

‘Did you—’ 

‘If you are about to ask the same question as Mister Weasley, then the answer is No.’ 

Harry looked up through his fringe, his raven strands stuck in his eyelashes, they were wet with the tears that threatened to drip, re-thinking about his virginity taken like this. He really should have stopped it last night, but, he’d, he’d been so horny, and Snape was so, so fucking sexy. 

How could Snape say something so blatantly a lie to Harry’s inquisitive friends, with such an emotionless voice and a straight face? Ah, Harry shook his head, of course, looking straight up into the dark abyss that were those dark obsidian eyes, he very clearly knew why, how. This was Severus Snape, Potions Master and Master of the Dark Arts; this man breathed heartless…More or less. 

‘Potter, get up. We are leaving, now.’ Snape grabbed Harry around the upper arm once more and tugged until Harry was well on his feet. The teen however, wasn’t about to move from this spot, try all Snape might, he wasn’t getting Harry to move an inch. He dug in his heels and clenched his hands at his sides, marking crescents into his palms. ‘Potter’ He growled. Harry knew for sure he wasn’t making a smart decision, but hey, if he was dead anyway from running away, then so be it, on with all the bad decisions in the world. ‘You are five seconds away from being seriously death with, you understand me boy?’ Harry almost growled himself at the use of “Boy” to the sentence, however, he didn’t and he just breathed heavily through his nose, jaw clenched shut. 

He wasn’t going anyway. Threaten him, punch him, curse him, claw at him, slap him, he wasn’t moving. He will not, will not subject himself willingly to that sort of torture for an entire summer. He was sick and tired of the Dursley’s treatment of him, he wasn’t about to allow something different but similar at Snape’s. As morbid as it was going to sound, he’d rather die. 

MALFOY’S POV. 

He sighed and pushed himself back into his “Godfather’s” favourite armchair—the man wasn’t truly legally his Godfather, but he was around enough that Draco had called the man Uncle when he was younger—for the hundredth time since he’d gotten here. He was immensely bored. What was taking them so long anyway? Surely Severus could catch a runaway Potter easily? 

Standing to his feet and rubbing his neck to get rid of the stiffness that had set-in, he determinately strode back down the stairs from the Library, slipped his coat onto his shoulders and left the house—the house would lock by itself. He was intent on finding out exactly where the two had gone and why it was taking them so damn fucking long. 

When he was at the edge of the wards he slipped out his wand, ‘Point me, Potter.’ As his feet deposited him onto the cracked cobblestone of Diagon Alley’s High Street, the wand pointing directly behind him causing him to turn, he groaned, ‘Oh honestly.’ It wasn’t first that Potter had gone to the popular shopping district oh no, it was that Potter had gone to the Weasley Twins Flamboyant Joke Shop. He groaned at the stupidity of his school rival, walking slowly towards it, inside and up the staircase where his wand immediately stopped glowing. 

He stood for a moment at the broken archway of an apartment and stepped immediately inside to deduce the scene. ‘Honestly Potter, Professor?’ He leaned against the archway, just inside, plucking at a mangled gold hinge as they registered he was there. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

‘Honestly Potter, Professor?’ Their heads whipped around to take in the platinum-haired teen leaning there, between the where the twins still were, plucking at a hinge that was about ready to drop from the splintered wood frame. 

‘Mister Malfoy, what are you doing here?’ Snape proclaimed, letting Harry go unthinkingly at the unexpectedness—Harry moved away thankfully. 

‘I got bored sir, why else? I thought you would have caught Potter sooner and brought him back. You’re lucky I didn’t pick the lock on your liquor cabinet.’ Since the man used really advanced spells he would have had to use actual lock picking to accomplish this, it was lucky that he knew how. It was only out of respect and that he knew how he’d be punished that he hadn’t. He ran a hand through his platinum locks, pushing them back from his forehead where they fell limply. ‘Why is it taking so long and why was Potter even in your house to begin with?’ 

‘Dumbledore made me.’ Harry finally spoke, eyes narrowed to slits, no happier than he had been seconds prior. Damn this twit for showing up and damn this twit further undoubtably plotting to make things so much worse for Harry. 

‘Oh?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Hmm, not much of an answer but I’ll give to you.’ He shrugged a shoulder. ‘And why did you flee if you’ve been there for weeks already?’ He raised an eyebrow and then the other when Harry growled and whimpered at the same time, not that he had meant to mind you. ‘Interesting…’ Malfoy muttered, though of course being Malfoy, the mutter wasn’t much of a mutter at all. 

‘Shut up Malfoy, it’s none of your god damn business.’ 

Harry blinked, thinking thanks Ron, even though strictly speaking his best friends had no clue and Malfoy seemed to somehow know something, what with his mocking attitude and that smirk that was playing around his pretty lips. 

Shame the blonde was such a dick. The beauty was wasted. 

Just what that something may be however, Harry wasn’t sure. 

‘Oh, do you know then Weasley?’ It shut Ron up pretty effectively and caused him to take back his butterbeer and sip it, so as not to give an answer. Malfoy, of course, noticed the not so subtle action and smirked knowingly. ‘Thought not’ He said. ‘Shall we leave now?’ He went on. ‘I’m starting to feel nauseated from all this experimental potion smoke. You can, “Deal” with Potter however you want, when we get back Professor. No use in making a scene here.’ He shrugged. Harry glowered. The brat could leave anytime he wanted, he’d obviously apparated here, hadn’t he? 

The word “Deal” spoken in this sort of mocking and knowing voice caused Harry’s friends to widen their eyes and narrow them at the same time—it was a feat. What other action, upon hearing this could one make? It wasn’t like they could do anything about it, they’d heard from Harry when all this had been settled before school finished that Snape had reign for the summer. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

It wasn’t long before without noticing at all, Snape had stunned him, grabbed him about the middle, thrown him over his shoulder, cast a disillusionment charm and they were apparating back to Snape’s Manor, his friends having hardly any chance to comprehend. It was then, that Harry was thrown unceremoniously onto his bed, the covers still mussed from their sex, turned around, his pants spelled gone with his underwear and his bottom smacked a good number of harsh times until, quite clearly his screams broke the last charm remaining. 

He kicked himself free of the grasp around his hip and gratefully and satisfyingly got a good kick to Snape’s stomach as he tried to re-grab and turn Harry back around; he was obviously not done with “Dealing” with Harry yet. He stumbled back, hand clutched around his middle and a scowl firmly on his pale features. He came forward menacingly with the most angered look in his dark eyes that Harry had ever seen; he swallowed, crawling his way across the mattress, trying to get as far away from the teacher as he could. His legs were caught with hard gripping fingers and he was thrust back toward Snape, flopped back onto his front and promptly smacked twice more with bruising accuracy. When he was about to be hit a third punishing time, Harry cried out and kicked out once more, flailing his limbs to remove himself from Snape’s tight grasp around his hindquarters. 

The raven reared back when the man began to mutter under his breath, holding his head and his stomach from where Harry had been able to reach with his flailing limbs. It was no more than 30 seconds of muttering before the Potions Master just sort of…snapped. He yelled into Harry’s face an ‘ENOUGH!’, his pallid features turning red with held back anger. Harry was a bit frightened if he were honest, since he’d never since such blatant anger, not even when Harry had delved into the man’s pensieve without permission and had almost been hit with a jar filled with something gruesome. Thankfully the man had forgiven him with Dumbledore’s help and a lot of profuse apologies, and scrubbing of a 1000 of Snape’s dirty cauldrons and Harry wasn’t even exaggerating, his limbs had hurt for weeks. 

Snape lunged at Harry until Harry had no choice but to be pressed into the mattress, a knee between his thighs in a place he’d rather not have it and Snape’s threatening stare bearing down on him with his heavy body. ‘It. Is. ENOUGH, do you understand me?!’ He shook Harry and Harry flinched back at the yell so close. He snapped his jaw shut and eyes went closed tight with a scrunch of his nose, unconsciously trying to block out the angry man pressing into him. 

It wasn’t working, of course, especially when Snape’s heaving breaths flew across his cheeks and lashes and the knee wedged between Harry’s thighs pressed harshly into his covered ball sack. ‘I will not put up with shit anymore Potter, not from anyone, and especially not from you, the son of James Potter, a spoiled little brat that DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THAT HE’S HERE FOR A REASON!’ He spat the name, spittle hitting Harry’s cheek—Harry’s face contorted at the phrase and at the unmistakable truth. 

He yelled up into the sour face, eyes now open and fire-lit. ‘I AM NOT MY FATHER!’ The slap that came seconds after Harry’s words caused him to close his eyes again as he slid across the mattress. When Snape heaved and removed himself from the bed, walking away, he opened his eyes and laid a palm over the stinging skin, shaking as he sat up awkwardly. 

‘Whether you are, or you aren’t, makes no difference to me anymore Potter. I’ve had enough. Stay in this room. You are not to step a foot out of it, is that understood? You step a foot out of this room, so much as a toe outside and you will receive more than a few swats to your rump and a slap across your face, got it?’ It was the most threatening Harry had ever heard, he swallowed, nodding slowly. With one of his own, Snape was out the room and slamming the door behind him. A lock clicked into place outside followed by numerous spells that Harry were sure weren’t all light or neutral. 

…Well, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to be locked away. 

SNAPE’S POV. 

With a nod of his own, Severus left the room with a loud echoing slam of the weathered old oak. His wand flew up and aiming at the wood he flicked the sealed shut lock and casted some pretty heavily advanced locking spells. Not all of those were spells the Order or Dumbledore would approve of but at least they weren’t more than locking spells, as long as Potter stayed where he was. The damned brat. Idiotic, Naïve, Irresponsible, Mischievous, Good for nothing, Trouble Making, Beautiful, Moronic, Sexy, Intoxicating Little Whelp!! How dare he?! 

Severus shook his hand a couple times as he marched down the first flight of stairs and into the Library. He wanted a good long sit down in his favourite armchair, a large glass of Brandy or something equally strong wouldn’t be going amiss, and ignore the events in the last 24 hours, including that insolent Malfoy brat that had shown up to make things worse for the foreseeable future—he could only tolerate one brat for so many days, he was already at his limit with Potter. Past it, probably. 

He hadn’t meant to hit the boy’s face, let alone so hard that he would jar his own hand beyond the smacks he had dealt out ruthlessly to the whelps perfectly round bottom. He was still shaking his hand as he strode into the Library, the blonde brat sitting there, staring at him with large inquisitively laughing grey eyes, in Severus favourite armchair. 

‘Get out.’ 

The brat stood and silently relocated to the opposite sofa. 

‘No, Draco, get out.’ He tiredly spoke, rubbing the spot between his brows with his uninjured hand and pointing behind to the door with his other as he walked to the liquor cabinet, spelled it open under his breath, poured himself a glass and took a swig. 

‘I won’t bother you, sir. But I do have one question I’d like to ask though…’ Severus sighed and inclined his head, acknowledging. If he didn’t let the blonde ask then he’d never stop trying too. ‘You seem to have hit him hard enough for it to echo, or at least, you left the door open. Did you have to hit him? After all, he is Potter, he’s supposed to be the “Chosen One” right?’ He used quotations. ‘The only one capable of Defeating the Dark Lord, isn’t he? Aren’t you worried what his friends and even Dumbledore would do if he told them you hurt him whilst he was here?’ 

‘Headmaster Dumbledore ordered this Draco. He gave me permission to punish Potter if I thought he deserved it. I gave him my rules, and Dumbledore’s when he got here. He knew what would happen if he disobeyed them.’ His voice still tired, he took another swig. 

‘But shouldn’t you treat him better whilst he’s staying with you?’ He shook his platinum head and leaned on an elbow. ‘Not that personally I see the logic behind Dumbledore’s choice.’ 

‘He believed Potter needed discipline Draco, after his recent blow out in the man’s office, I’m not surprised. Dumbledore’s still cleaning it, half of it has been thrown out because whatever Potter did in his tantrum, refused to let them be reparo’d. Potter’s attitude is appalling.’ He didn’t say it wasn’t much better than the blonde’s. When his glass was full once more, full to the very brim, did he actually turn around, taking a large gulp and seat himself with a low groan. ‘Upstairs was admittedly in the heat of the moment, even if he does aggravate me that much and I have thought about it before…’ He trailed off. ‘I will not harm the boy as I did just now, anytime soon. Hopefully it won’t come to that again. With him here, I’ve only so much control, and only so much I can do in the way of his behavioural corrections. I will try not to let my temper go astray that far again, besides I am sure he’s perfectly fine besides a few bruises that will heal in time, no matter how hard it may have sounded. As far as, Potter’s “blabbing”, he won’t.’ He knew he was talking more than just the punishments, but Malfoy didn’t know that.

‘You never know sir…’ He stood and collected a book at random from the wall. 

‘Draco, if Potter didn’t and doesn’t tell his friends or anybody else about how horrible his treatment at the hands of his relatives is, I doubt he is about to go and tell anybody about his brief unjust treatment at hands of his Potions Professor.’ 

The blonde walked back, a frown on his features. Severus could guess what the boy was thinking, “He sounds warn out” and of course Severus was, both mentally and physically, having Potter here was exhausting and of course, “Treatment?” 

The only reason why Severus was in the know was because of the Occlumency Lessons Dumbledore insisted they keep up even on vacation and hadn’t mentioned anything more than something briefly to Dumbledore because Dumbledore already seemed to know. They mostly kept the things they learnt about each other, which in Potter’s case wasn’t much, to themselves. Respect, was one of the main reason why Potter had not objected so harshly to his stay with Severus this summer. When the blonde didn’t speak for several minutes and had opened the book, Severus sighed, took another long draught of his alcoholic beverage and pressed two fingers to his temple in an attempt to stave off another headache, that was, unfortunately, already there. ‘Draco why all the inquiries anyway?’ 

The brat shrugged and shut the book with a snap, laying a hand atop the white cover. ‘I just don’t understand why you did it. He’s aggravated you enough times before not to warrant such a physical reaction before, regardless of you have some sort of reign of Potter’s punishments for the summer, why now? What did he do that was so bad, besides running away? That can’t have been all there was too it, you guys haven’t been on “speaking” terms, or “respectful” terms since I got here this morning and I know that you were prior to school letting out…Since you told me as such…I assume since Dumbledore ordered it, he’s here all summer?’ 

‘Like you are, I presume?’  
Draco nodded and pushed his propped-up hand again. ‘Shouldn’t you treat him better?’ 

‘You are repeating yourself Draco…’ Severus sighed heatedly again, taking another sip of alcohol. ‘But yes, however I will treat Potter how he should be treated when he does something so childish and stupid, as I will do the same for you whilst you are here, make no mistake Draco, you know this.’ The blonde did in fact know this, the potions teacher saw the boy swallow, standing to place the book back on the bookshelf. He almost snorted when the book that had been picked had been the same one Potter had found the other day. It had a very detailed illustration of two men entwined sinfully around each other on the white cover. He flushed when Severus called him out on it and simply stated, ‘Take it with you, leave me in peace and go to your room, or the gardens as it is still only mid-afternoon, do something, I don’t care, so long as you stay inside the wards.’ 

‘Yes sir, but, Severus? If you don’t mind my saying so, don’t drink too much, you aren’t always, responsible, when you’re drunk. You might do something you come to regret in the morning, if you aren’t careful, like when you joined the Dark Lord…’ His words became something of a whisper as he noticed the scowl aimed his way. 

‘Do not lecture me Draco, I am your elder. Shoo.’ He waved the blonde out and Draco left to wander. He knew damn well he couldn’t hold his liquor, the brat was right, or at least, he didn’t know when to stop or when to just go to his room and sleep it off—perhaps he should be wary of how much he ingested? 

He’d already done something stupid, there was no reason to do it again. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Sitting against the side of the bed, having slid to the floor in a trance after Snape’s retreat and subsequent locking of Harry’s bedroom door, was where he remained when he heard a tentative knock on said door. 

‘Potter?’ The voice was tentative. 

KNOCK. 

KNOCK. 

It came again, a little louder this time when Harry refused to acknowledge it. 

‘Potter?’ It questioned. 

Harry sighed and pulled his knees further to his chest. He wasn’t about to speak; his jaw was in incredible amounts of pain that he had screamed earlier just attempting to open it. He was almost 70% sure that Snape had broken it, or at least fractured some of the bones inside. Besides, what would Malfoy want with him anyway? They didn’t like each other, and it wasn’t exactly a “are you alright?” check in, because they didn’t like each other and there would be no point to that and it had been an hour past when Snape had hurt Harry. Surely mocking of one’s punishment needs to take place directly after said punishment? 

‘Potter? Come on, are you okay?’ Harry actually blanched, rearing back and subsequently whacking his still bare back into the hard wood revealed earlier by the sheet tearing away from the mattress. Okay, okay?! The blonde was actually asking if he was OKAY?! Where the fuck had this come from, since when? How? Why? What?! Where does the blonde get off asking a question like that? Besides…No, he wasn’t okay, of course he fucking wasn’t!! 

But what the fuck was wrong with Malfoy?!  
Normally, nemeses don’t ask nemeses if each other is okay. He didn’t bother to answer, and couldn’t even if he had wanted too and thankfully the nut eventually walked away…With a deep hearted sigh. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Knock. 

Knock. 

‘Potter?’ 

Harry blinked open his eyes, groaning in pain. ‘Wha—?’ 

Knock.  
Knock. 

‘Potter?’ 

Harry was beginning to sit up from where he had slid down completely to the floor, cracking his neck muscles because the position had been the worst. His jaw ached worse than it had before because he’d been laying on that side, with his cheek pressed to the thin carpet. Really, sleeping on the floor was torture and…Admittedly, so was having Snape beginning to open his door, creak by innocent creak smelling like booze. 

No way, no how, not again. He would not do it again. He couldn’t…He just couldn’t let himself do that. Why did Snape come to him like this?! Harry backed into the side of the bed and started to shake his head as Snape advanced, closing the door behind him, definitely a 100% smelling of fucking booze. 

He fell down to his knees in front of Harry and pressed a slender fingered, potion stained hand onto his smarting cheek. The onyx eyes were intense in the darkness, in the moon illuminated room, the pupils wildly dilated. ‘Pro—Professor’ Harry stuttered, trying to remove his hurt cheek from Snape’s hand. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Harry whimpered and crawled up the mattress, pressing back into the shredded pillows—he had done this that night. It was morning now; bright rays of the sun came through the undrawn curtains. 

There was a pain-filled moan. Harry flinched away from it and ended up once more on his dreadfully painful arse, falling head over heels. He swallowed thickly and kept completely and utterly silent, trying not to give away that he was there at all. 

‘Uhhh…’ The bastard sat up and slipped slightly back down as his hand went through the pillow. ‘What?’ he asked, grabbing at his head as he pushed himself to look over the bed a second later, this of course, caused him to frown and wack his palm to his forehead in distress. ‘Potter…’ 

Harry licked dry lips and blinked quickly, swallowing and breathing with his mouth never closing. He stood to his feet, rushing to the bathroom and slamming the door before the man could even move more than an inch across the mattress. 

SNAPE’S POV. 

‘Why?’ Severus groaned, stepping inside his trousers and waving off his shirt to knock tentatively on the bathroom door. He couldn’t believe it, completely unbelievable. He’d slept with the boy again, and this time, by the scent and the state of the room, it hadn’t been entirely consensual—not that he could say the first time had been either, but he knew it hadn’t been like this. 

‘Mister Potter.’ He tried. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Harry shook his head and held onto the sink with both hands, his knuckles quickly turning white as he gripped the porcelain. He couldn’t believe… 

‘Mister Potter.’ 

He ignored the man and waved his hand in a show of pique and unchecked wandless magic; his eyes went wide as the door actually locked and shimmered for several seconds with a locking spell. He hadn’t even been aware he could perform wandless magic. 

‘Mister Potter!’ The hand of the man on the other side banged harshly on the wood several times after this. The man definitely liked to bang on doors and try to break things. There was no way Harry was going to open that door anytime soon and allow the man entrance. 

He’d already allowed the man entrance once, and it had been taken the second time. He really couldn’t stay here…It wasn’t safe… He swallowed and turned on the shower. Boiling hot, he stepped inside, hissing and began to wash himself as he turned a dark deep red; his skin began to blister as he stood under the beating spray, stinging but he ignored it, he didn’t care at the moment if he got third degree burns on his sun-kissed toned skin, he could blame it on Snape. He just wanted to burn off the act…The act of being…The act of Snape…This time, he hadn’t wanted it. 

‘Mister Potter, please open this door.’ It sounded as if a head hit the wood as Harry abruptly shut off the shower and stepped out. He still didn’t fell clean, could still feel Snape all over him, in him, as much as he had wanted that, as much as he did, he didn’t want it like this. 

‘Leave me alone!’ He croaked. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] 

Harry barricaded himself inside the guest bedroom after this. He didn’t believe the room to be locked anymore, Snape was a more than qualified wizard but he made sure that they wouldn’t enter by pushing against the entry door with all of his magic, honing his apparent wandless abilities during this time of self-imposed isolation. He didn’t want to see Snape, or Malfoy; he didn’t want the possibility of there being mocking tones or insincere apologies from Snape. 

He still couldn’t believe Snape had done that, but then…He supposed, if he really thought about it, in great depth, it really wasn’t much a surprise. The man had been a Death Eater, could very well still be a Death Eater under Voldemort’s orders to pretend to be a Spy. Maybe this was his mission? 

The teen laughed, huddled in on himself. A Spy pretending to be a Spy, probably pretending to be a Spy. He groaned as he shifted within the stale smelling sheets. He had tried his best with Scourgify x 5 and Reparo x 5 but the sheets remained stubborn just as much as they remained soft, even torn. 

He was still in incredibly amounts of pain, obviously he was unhealed as he had not mastered wandless magic by any stretch of the imagination, especially in only a weeks-time limit and he didn’t want to try it. He clearly wouldn’t have gone out to get healed as he didn’t want to see either asshole, this also left him completely starving as he hadn’t eaten anything since the eve before the last incident with the Professor…He had gone longer without food before the snacks were handed to him at the train station, so he could manage but he’d been getting a decent amount this summer—so it was hard. 

It wasn’t of course like he wasn’t receiving the food; he was. It was just that he refused to open the door to receive the trays and have that possibility that someone was standing there waiting for his appearance. They came with it, they knocked, he assumed they came to retrieve the untouched food and walked away. 

He whetted his cracked lips and flinched away from his own hand as he brought up to prod the large bruise and broken jaw—he avoided prodding in any other places in case he did more than flinch, he was actually a bit worried how much he had been hurt, so he avoided even looking at himself in the mirror of his bathroom, and definitely tried not to even brush the places that hurt badly. 

He knew for sure that there were bruises—dark ones—, burns and even scratches. These he wasn’t extremely concerned about, he was more concerned about the internal and the ones that he had actually bandaged upon flinching and screeching in the bathroom, seeing them and the blood drop into the sink—when Snape had seen fit to leave that day, his head hopefully lowered in concern and guilt and shame. 

‘So hungry’ He groaned as his stomach grumbled. Shaking his raven head and shifting within the sheets again, he threw them off in anger and trudged across the room to the suite—he was grateful it had its own bathroom though he knew it wasn’t the Master’s—and spun the tap for the shower. He knew no matter how much he cleaned himself, the feeling wouldn’t dissipate but that didn’t mean he wanted to continue to lie there in the sheets and start to smell like them. 

The water was scolding as it had been every time he ducked into it. He stood under it for hours—it was lucky the water never ran out and if the hot water did then it was just a simple matter of heating with magic again—waiting for his skin to turn blistering red then he would scrub himself all his might, his eyes blurring under the hot spray as he did so. The broken imagery of that night; his kicks and screams, his defeated limbs limply being manoeuvred when he gave in, beaten down though not physically by large hands and a heavy body above him, bearing down on him and keeping him still the best it could. He was sure he had made his own marks on the man and hoped that they stayed though he very much doubted the man wouldn’t heal them. Harry screamed his throat raw at the imagery as the steaming water beat down over his abused body.

[ ] [ ] [ ]

He was splashing cool water onto his tear-tracked features when he heard his bedroom door creaking open. He hiccupped as he listened carefully, hands gripping the basin as he stared into the mirror at his tarnished reflection. 

The footsteps stopped before the door and ‘Mister Potter?’ was heard clearly through it. Harry swore colourfully. He’d been half hoping it was the blonde idiot coming to bother him again, as he had the entire week, though he never entered. Harry took a step away from the sink, turned, when he saw Snape edge open the bathroom door, slender fingers curling around the framework and his boots edging their way onto the tiled flooring; the man must have gone out again. 

Harry blinked, his glasses still in the bathroom, clenching his jaw and did his best to scowl through the hard beating of his heart behind his ribcage—which was just as sore as anything else. He was grateful he was already dressed in his grey “Snitches” shirt that swooped in gold lettering across his breast—the “I” dot would flit around occasionally like a small golden snitch, and a pair of dark trousers that stopped just at his calves. 

Snape opened his mouth and Harry couldn’t help the shiver that travelled his entire body instantly. It wasn’t exactly a good shiver either. ‘Why haven’t you come downstairs for food and drink, eaten the food that has been brought up to you?’ He took a step forward and paused with his hand in the air, obviously reaching, when Harry took an involuntary step back into the porcelain of the sink with a flinch. ‘If…If you were hurt…This badly, all the more reason…’ His voice was a shaky whisper—it unnerved Harry and so he swallowed, licking dry lips. 

SNAPE’S POV. 

The messy haired teen had to be stubborn. The brat’s cheek was a mix of purples, yellows and deep blue that spread almost all the way to his eye; he could even see where his fingers had made dents where he had struck the boy’s soft skin several days ago. The burns around the teens wrists were harsh and blistered, he could only assume those were made from magic bonds, but the rest of his blistered body was nothing more than too many hot showers. He had multitudes of other yellowed and darkened black bruises, and deep cuts that his shirt and trousers couldn’t hide and his features clearly showed he’d been doing a lot of crying in the last seven days. 

How much pain had he made this unfortunate teen endure? 

He could barely remember that night but he knew that morning that upon seeing Potter run from him to the bathroom with no clothes on, and a bloody trail being left behind him, that he had very clearly done something irrevocable; he had cursed him to smack his head into a brick wall and had apologised profusely to the picture of a scowling Lily Evans—she had walked out of her frame to some other he had hidden in the Manor—the only ray of sunshine when he was here, was her pictures. 

He hadn’t been man enough to throw a memory into his pensieve, yet. Maybe he should and then really feel the shame and horror of what he had done to a teenage boy that lived such an unfortunate life, that had a destiny that shouldn’t be given to a mere child, that was treated like dirt by his relatives, worse than dirt, that somehow found a bit of happiness in his shit life despite everything. 

He felt horrible, even more so when as he had been reaching out for the brat’s cheek, he had seen the flinching step into the sink. He cringed internally as he heard the impact and saw the cringing blink of Potter’s seconds later; there would be a bruise to add to the many more that Severus had given him 7 days ago. 

‘Potter…’ 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

Crack. 

Harry groaned lowly and swore under his breath. 

Snape’s voice was low when he voiced Harry’s last name. ‘Potter…’ 

Harry shook his head and closed his eyes, placing his hands back onto the edge of the sink, as he had briefly let go at the impact. He was fine. If he can live with these bruises and such, he can live with one in the middle of his spine.

‘I am…Loathe to let you off the hook for your stunt a week ago, and the one since of locking yourself in this room and starving yourself but as I have…Yet to atone for my own shortcomings, I have allowed for your friends to make a brief visit for a few days. They will be here shortly, in which case, I am sure you do not wish for them to see these…And ask you questions that you nor I would wish to answer truthfully. You will need me to heal these if you wish to see your friends.’ His voice was toneless as he waved to encompass Harry’s entire body, which Harry saw as he opened his orbs still filled with mild pain. 

‘If you do not allow me too—’ 

Harry held up a hand and left the washroom, Snape following in his wake though he didn’t appear very happy about the hand gesture and the subsequent ignorance as Harry grabbed his coat from his wardrobe and slipped it on; that covered his arms and wrists.  
His trousers would cover his legs and his socks, when he put them on, would cover his ankles, and any part’s in-between. All Snape had to do, was heal his cheek. 

Which Harry was sketchy about allowing. He stood with his arms akimbo as he spun back around to face the idiotic man, his sigh heavy on his lips as he stared into the dark eyes actually filled with anguish; it was a new emotion for Harry and so he swallowed, nodding his acceptance. 

‘Potter, your friends aren’t just here for a day visit, they are here for three days. You cannot keep yourself clothed like this the entire time. You can hardly do so indoors.’ 

Harry sighed heatedly, closing his eyes in his own anguish and shifting uncertainly. ‘Fine…’ He finally whispered, lifting his arms where they had fallen back down. ‘Cast away…Sir…’ Harry could feel the nerves racing through his body as he allowed Snape to heal his cheek, his wrists, and numerous other bruises and cuts; he allowed him to point his wand at him and intone spells that he had never heard of. His cheek tingled for a minute with 30 of those 60 seconds being extreme agony to which Harry screamed loudly and fell to his knees on the carpet. 

He felt the rest of his body healing itself bit by bit as he remained there, eyes firmly shut and jaw firmly clenched though this was added agony, too afraid to stand back up. 

Another scream was rent from him as something inside him realigned; he breathed in and out raggedly, grasping for breath as he wrapped his arms around himself and shook. What. The. Hell. Had that been?! 

He sat there for several minutes, then shucked his coat as he flinched away from the hand trying to help him back up. He prodded the healed tissue of his cheek and padded at his bottom tentatively through his trousers as he stood slowly—He followed Snape down the stairs, collecting his glasses from the side table on the way, at an even slower wobbly legged pace. The Potioneer led him into the gardens behind the Manor. Malfoy was sat there, lazing on a sunbed that hadn’t been there when Harry had arrived for the summer, drinking some sort of ice-cold pink beverage that was hissing, as he read from a book that had some decidedly erogenous men on the cover—Harry remembered that cover, he flushed scarlet. 

‘I will leave you here…’ His voice was quite yet stern as he left, leaving Harry to stand before the aristocrat who saluted between a straw stuck between his fingers and his lips. Harry didn’t really know why but the blonde had been something close to nice as he bothered Harry all week, asking if he was okay, that he should eat something; he was sure the blonde was probably the one bringing his food up—mostly. He was sure, at one point, that he had actually heard “Potter, can we call a truce?” during those 7 days of self-imposed pure agonising isolation. 

‘Okay’ Harry said as he sat himself down on second sunbed. The blonde spun his head with a sandwich in his mouth now, it was oozing red jam. 

‘Wah?’ His eyebrows were up. 

‘You asked for a truce, right?’ He mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

He swallowed, waving the half-bitten bread. ‘Did, yeah, wasn’t sure you heard me?’ 

‘I did’ Harry replied just as quietly, lifting his head as he began to hear new voices. The voices were headed directly for them. It was Hermione he could hear the most he realised, she was trying to override Ron’s grumbles about Snape. ‘I’m accepting your truce, if you still want it, so please, behave while my friends are here? And…’ He licked his lips, keeping his eyes facing his advancing friends as he felt heat travel from the blonde as he leaned forward. ‘Don’t say anything…’ 

‘Ah’ That was the only thing the blonde said, and Harry heard as the visitors appeared entirely , escorted by a rather nicely dressed house elf that Harry had never seen before and Snape himself. Hermione of course was frowning down at the cheery creature as she talked and the house elf obviously replied in kind as they came closer. She looked as if she had a number of unsavoury things to say to Snape as he excused himself and walked inside with a well-placed sneer. Harry caught Ron’s voice as it carried, the both walking now across the small expanse with inches between them. 

‘Was it just me or did Snape seem different? Mione? Hey Hermione?’ 

Hermione was muttering to herself by the looks of it then she yelled and was heading straight for Harry, so Harry quickly stood before she barrelled the chair over. He dug his feet into the earth to catch her hurtling body. He dearly nearly the hug, though he was unsure why she was so enthusiastic about it. He needed the comfort, the comfort of his friends. Desperately. Maybe that was why Snape was allowing them here? 

He hugged her tightly for a minute until Ron coughed loudly and Malfoy out right laughed. ‘Jealous Weasley?’ 

‘Shut it, Malfoy.’ Ron’s face was admittedly flushed. 

Hermione giggled behind a hand as Harry released her and flattened down an exceptionally out of place strand of his raven hair on the side of his head. ‘Everything alright?’ She asked, staring into his emerald eyes. He didn’t realise until now but he was slightly looking up into her eyes, just by a centimetre. He nodded, trying not to show that in his eyes he was in pain—they suddenly filled with tears and he cleared his throat and blinked a few times, making an unsubtle attempt to distract by taking his glasses off and cleaning them on his shirt. 

‘Mate?’ Ron was stepping closer immediately with a frown, his hands twitching. 

‘I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing to worry abo—’ He choked a little and tried to cover it with an actual cough. ‘I’ve just missed you guys a bit that’s all.’ He went over to Ron and hugged him tightly too, though Ron stood frozen a moment, staring over his shoulder no doubt with a frown, returned it and then pushed him back with a deeply embarrassed flush that almost obscured his freckles. 

‘Alright mate. Alright, we missed you too.’ He patted Harry on the back and Harry didn’t need to try as hard to keep the tears inside, as they receded from his sheepish laughter. He did feel a bit embarrassed.  
‘Not that we didn’t see you briefly last week…Which uh, Hermione and I are still curious about you know, especially considering how Snape stunned you and whisked you away after Malfoy’s “deal” statement…’ He started to mumble as Harry started to avoid their eyes again, the laughter vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. ‘Ahem’ He coughed, looking back at Hermione, sharing some secret conversation of “What do we do?” and then turned to Malfoy. 

‘So, what’s Malfoy doing here?’ He pointed, hands still twitching. 

Harry couldn’t say as he didn’t know the answer to that yet, and he didn’t have a clue as how to answer Ron’s questions about last week. He didn’t want them to know—it was bad enough that he thought Malfoy understood something and properly had heard his fair share of those somethings since he’d been at Snape’s home. ‘Malfoy?’ He turned and faced the blonde, inquiring. 

Hermione sat beside him as he returned to the sunbed, her smile said she thought she understood something but she wasn’t sure what it was yet; she was clever but she couldn’t have known that he’d been…He breathed heavily and smiled back at her though he felt it might have been more of a grimace by the look that quickly went across her petite features. 

She was definitely suspicious; they both were. 

They both knew he was hiding something, that was for certain but they weren’t sure why or how they could approach the subject since the subject seemed to be something immensely passed Harry’s tolerance of sharing. 

Draco nodded and smirked, a smirk that was clearly holding back some laughter. ‘I’m here to spend the rest of the summer since my Mother decided to abandon her only child and take to France—since my Father’s locked away now, she can travel, not even sure she’ll return to be fair.’ He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Besides, Snape is supposed to help me with my Potions Apprenticeship. I’ve already started the preliminary period, I phase into the first-year next year, so I wasn’t lying when I arrived here.’ He turned to Harry as he said this. 

‘He hasn’t…Yet, being too busy…With something, or doing Potions Experiments of his own that are way “too volatile for an over-enthusiastic sixteen-year-old” to be in the same room for, I expect he simply doesn’t want me in his private Lab here. He didn’t allow it last time either.’ He pouted, took a drink though not before holding out for Harry to decline with a hesitate shake of his head. ‘Sandwich then?’ He asked, holding out a smaller sandwich dripping with strawberry jam, admittedly one of Harry’s favourite jam’s. Harry hesitated, wanting to keep as much distance as possible between human contact right now but he took the proffered sandwich when Draco’s eyebrow rose with amusement. 

Harry was clearly salivating involuntarily because he had to swallow a lot of saliva before taking a small bite; he knew he’d been starving but he hadn’t realised he’d been ravenous until he took more bites and even took a gulp from the pink lemonade of Malfoy’s as he held out to him when he choked on the bread, and his emotions. 

He blinked when he heard Ron’s voice, awed and disbelieving say, ‘You took a sandwich, no, you took three that were offered by Malfoy.’ Ron’s voice was low until he paused a second and screamed, coming forward and shaking Harry by his tender shoulders. ‘ARE YOU INSANE?! It’s Malfoy!!’ He then started to pat him down in a frantic fashion and Harry frowned, becoming annoyed. 

‘Ron, RON! I’m fine. It was just a jam sandwich.’ 

‘Jam…Are you—are you sure?’ He seemed to deflate as he sat himself down on third sunbed, almost on top of the one Harry and Hermione were on. Where were these things popping up from? He was sure there hadn’t been third one before…Let alone the second he was currently sitting on and none of them were here when he’d first arrived. Was it Malfoy or was it Snape doing it from inside the house? He looked subtly towards the house but he didn’t notice anything strange lurking near the windows or balcony doors. 

‘Yes.’ Harry spoke very slowly. 

‘Snape made them for you actually, just FYI.’ Malfoy seemed to find this important information to supply right then, he sniffed as Harry turned with his friends, eyes wide as his mouth dropped open with theirs. 

‘Snape, why would Professor Snape make jam sandwiches for Harry?’ 

‘Potter likes them.’ He shrugged, turning to Harry. ‘You like Strawberry Jam sandwiches, don’t you?’ Harry nodded slowly, thinking about it, was this something Snape was doing to atone for what he’d done to Harry, twice now? 

He slowly lowered himself, bending himself so his head was between his knees and he breathed deeply, shaking his head. 

‘Harry?’ 

‘Are you alright?’ 

He wasn’t sure there was anything in the world that would make Harry forgive the man for what he had done to him. What he had done to his Mother back in the day when she was trying only to help Snape as he was being bullied by Harry’s father James Potter, wasn’t nearly as bad as what he had done to Harry. 

This had been actions. 

Back then it had simply been words born out of pride, and quickly regretted. 

‘Yes.’ He finally said. ‘I do, like jam sandwiches, a lot, actually, but what does that really have too—’ 

‘So, does he, as it turns out and I’m not opposed to them either, and as you haven’t eaten…Yet, he chose to make you food.’ The blonde shrugged and chuckled softly, holding another sandwich. ‘Ah, as it turns out…’ He took his own and moaned as he licked the jam from where his fingers squeezed the bread. ‘The more I eat, the more they become appealing.’ Harry blinked, Malfoy immediately smirked. ‘Is that a bit weird for you three?’ He held up a book. ‘I also like reading this, it’s fascinating, don’t you think Potter?’ It was the sultry book from earlier, hidden before on the other side of the table, unnoticed yet by his friends. 

Harry flushed. 

‘I actually happen to love reading some of the more…Fanciful Muggle written books, though I do have to hide those from my parents obviously. There’s just something so…Different about the porn books that Muggle’s produce, don’t you think?’ He asked of no one in particular, but his grey eyes stared into Harry. He closed his eyes then and sipped sinfully from his pink lemonade straw; he sounded completely aroused and Harry’s eyes widened behind his glasses as h took a wandering detour down and actually saw the blonde’s penis twitch and swell beneath his jeans. 

Were those muggle jeans?! 

His own cock gave a twitch between his legs and he involuntarily full-body twitched. 

Fuck, he thought. 

‘Harry?’ 

He swallowed. 

‘Harry?!’ He jumped when a hand fell onto his shoulder and shook him softly. A complete opposite to the voice that had screeched into his face. 

He stared, ‘Sorry, what?’ 

‘Oh honestly.’ Hermione was shaking her head now, though she may have been doing that the entire time. ‘He’s tormenting you Harry, baiting you. He’s teasing you and you’re letting him.’ Harry knew this, he did, but that didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t become aroused, having done…That…Or not, right? He spoke as much, saying he knew and was there any harm if he was letting the blonde? He didn’t mention anything else. 

Hermione’s hand had move to his thigh at some point and he tried not to flinch now that he noticed it was there because she didn’t know anything and well, she was Harry’s best friend, the first person to know he was gay and he wasn’t about to have sex with her. 

‘No mate, please, please don’t say anything more…’ Ron’s ginger head shook as his eyes closed in distress, his nose scrunching up beneath his freckles. ‘I don’t want to know if you get aroused about Malfoy.’ 

The blonde barked a laugh that shocked them. ‘I think Potter said it pretty well, well done Potter. Just because I’m teasing doesn’t mean Potter isn’t allowed to get aroused by it no matter who does something, or no matter…What happens…’ He stared at Harry and Harry made a face, telling him clearly with his eyes to watch his mouth. ‘Hell, I’m aroused by it.’ He shrugged, conceding silently. ‘Besides, it’s not like I was completely teasing Potter, he may be awkward and fumbling on the ground at the best of times but he’s a magnificent flyer, sitting up there with a broom between his legs expertly. He has a brain, since he’s the top in DADA, despite others best efforts. And sure’ he turned to Harry again, ‘You stumble but you pull through anything that’s thrown at you. You’re hair a completely mess and needs a haircut right now, it never sits flat, it’s like you’ve got a permanently bad hair day or just woken up from a good nap but it has its appeal—it’s incredibly soft. And we have been nemesis since early Hogwarts, but you’ve got your definite sexy qualities, even your shortness has its appealing quirk and those dreadful glasses only hide something incredibly green behind them. Fuck, hard to notice all that when you come into adulthood, and you’re constantly fighting each other.’ 

‘Ah, helps when you realise you don’t like woman all that much.’ 

All their eyes were wide, Harry was blinking owlishly, his mouth unable to close. 

‘I found they whine too much.’ 

‘O…Oh?’ Harry stuttered, licking suddenly dry lips and scrunching his hands into his shirt in his lap, covering his own erection from his friends. Malfoy smiled cheekily, taking another seductive swipe of his tongue across his sandwich, and when he bit into the soft supple bread, it was like watching him bite tenderly into smooth supple skin, and bruising for the sake of owning’s sake. 

Harry choked a little and shifted uneasily on the sunbed, moving himself slightly further away from Hermione and cursing himself in anger for being so weak. 

‘Mm, you never had the same revelation?’ He chewed slowly. ‘Potter I relish when we fight at school. You’re always so full of fire, your emerald eyes almost glow as they’re filled with the fire coursing through your veins. You’re so easy to rile up and that, my dear Potter, is something that I actually find incredibly hot.’ He breathed shallowly. ‘Have you never heard of the saying “Love and Hate are just two sides of the same coin?” you can’t have one without the other, Harry.’ Harry almost choked on his half-eaten sandwich as his name passed past Malfoy’s lips. 

‘So, you aren’t Hogwarts No. 1 Sex God, the blonde Adonis?’ It actually wasn’t Harry who asked as he was continuing to choke on his sandwich, and take desperate sips from the beverage that Malfoy unhesitatingly handed to him, not even staring at him but at Hermione; he nodded silently. She waved hand for him to elaborate, Harry stared at her through streaming eyes. She ignored him. 

He shrugged. ‘Alright. I only really allowed that stupid rumour because it kept my parents off my back. My father especially, as he loved hearing that I was bedding so many proper witches, “trying to find the right one”; it was a lot of shit.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I did sleep with plenty though, had too after I found myself leaning towards men. I didn’t want my parents in the know about that so I forced myself, it worked I suppose, considering I was apparently good enough to be dubbed that by them. I’m honoured. That isn’t to say I didn’t sleep with my fair share of men, with strict rules that it needed to stay silent. The rumours, besides making my Mother disappointed in me, not that she isn’t always now anyways, it kept my Father happy and that’s what mattered.’ He shrugged again and sipped the straw as Harry finally relinquished it. 

‘Doesn’t that still make you Hogwarts whore at least Malfoy, since it sounds like you bedded more than enough?’ This was Harry. 

‘Hmm, sure, Potter.’ He took another sandwich, sucking the jam and smirked. This was just too weird, even considering that they had just formed a truce. 

[ ] [ ] [ ] 

‘Mister Malfoy’ They all jumped and Harry fell back down onto Draco’s chair, having seated himself some time past after they had all calmed down from Ron’s little spasm and consequent rush to the Manor’s safety; he had seen a spider. 

Draco had been nice enough and gentlemanly enough to calmly get rid of the arachnid, though he laughed the entire time as he waved Ron back to their spot. 

‘Yes Professor?’ He asked, sipping his lemonade. He had been topping it up as they all shared it between themselves. Ron and Hermione only doing so because they had seen that Harry was perfectly fine and none of them remembering that there had been a house elf in fine clothes that could have easily gotten them more cups. 

That and Hermione would probably throw a fit if they had remembered and asked the house elf for assistance in anything. 

‘Are you behaving with Mister Potter and company?’ 

Malfoy laughed, blinking, ‘Of course.’ 

‘And you, Mister Potter, are you getting along with Mister Malfoy? Having fun?’ 

‘Sure’ Harry stared up at Snape, his voice filled with emotion. He took the glass from Malfoy’s slender fingers, numb as they were and took the indirect kiss, his emerald orbs trained the entire time on Snape’s obsidian. It had been such a strange thing for Snape to appear for, to simply ask something so mundane. Harry took the satisfaction when seeing Snape’s left eye twitch, clearly trying to keep his features neutral. 

Harry wasn’t sure what it was but he felt the sudden urge to get back at Snape. The man clearly sought him out whilst drunk, he had done so more than once and it hadn't just been for violence, for more than just letting off steam. Apparently, Harry wasn’t the only one to see Snape’s eye twitch as Draco immediately seemed to feel the tension vibrating between the two and decided he needed to intervene, though he only intervened by draping himself over Harry’s shoulders. He turned his head to lean close and whisper something into the shell of Harry’s ear, Harry blinked at it, unsure what he’d heard as he had this sudden terrible buzzing sound in his ears. 

Harry completely missed the smirk that Malfoy directed toward Snape, who ignored any gobsmacked and disbelieving features, spun in a huff and disappeared with his hands shoved into his pockets which were covered in white powder. 

Flour? 

It was the only thing Harry noticed as the man’s backside swung with his steps, ‘Was he cooking, do you think?’ he asked dazedly, shifting away from the blonde as he realised the blonde was still draped over him. He took the sandwich that was held out to him, kissing the tips of the slender fingers as he took it from the hand with his mouth. FUCK WHAT AM I DOING?! Harry shouted internally. 

Ron sputtered in the background. 

‘Ground Snake Fangs, probably.’ Draco hypothesised. ‘Honestly, I’ve never actually seen Severus cook food. Sandwiches are easy enough I suppose, I’ve just always assumed the house elf that pops up occasionally does all the cooking when I’m here. It’s always on the table when I enter the kitchen.’ 

Harry shook his head, disagreeing. ‘I’ve seen him cooking several times since I’ve been here. he’s quite good, but isn’t it sort of the same?’ 

‘Cooking and Potion Making?’ ‘No’ Draco shook his head, pulling the top of Harry’s ear. ‘You know’ he mused, ‘You’d look good with an earring there’ Harry blinked. ‘In regards to that, wouldn’t you be good at Potions if it were the same? You’re good at cooking, aren’t you?’ 

Harry blinked and turned halfway to face him. ‘How do you know that?’ 

‘Honestly?’ Harry nodded, eyes narrowed immediately in suspicion. ‘I was going down to the kitchen at Hogwarts one night, late at night, midnight maybe, after a really long study session on Ancient Runes, after I’d checked the coast was clear and tickled that stupid pear and turned the knob that appeared…You were standing there with all the house elves wringing their hands at your ankles. You weren’t listening to them, in fact I think there was music in the background, you were already swaying your hips and all the ingredients were on the counter, stacked up.’ ‘Beats me why you would cook when you have perfectly good house elves right there, wanting to do it for you. But…’ He stared a moment a huffing Hermione. ‘Whatever, you’re you.’ He took another breath and a sip of lemonade. ‘I stood there for a while, watching you cook and dance and hum along to the music, or your own, I wasn’t sure. You are, unbelievable unguarded when you cook…I found it really fascinating, and the house elves seemed to like the food you gifted them in apology afterwards, so I’m assuming you don’t suck.’ 

Harry blinked several times, ‘You were there the entire time?’ The blonde nodded as he brushed stray wayward strand of hair behind Harry’s ear. He wasn’t sure, but Malfoy might have been slowly trying to get Harry comfortable with him this entire time, he just wasn’t sure why, what did he want? Should he let the prat? ‘I hum?’ The blonde nodded again, humming himself. 

‘How do you even know where the kitchens are?’ 

‘Followed you once, I didn’t stay that time. They were with you.’ He pointed. 

‘Ahem, Harry?’ 

Harry jumped, having been in something of a trance as he saw a fallen strand of Malfoy’s drop of the beautiful grey eyes. Harry had almost forgotten that his friends were there. ‘Yes?’ He asked, voice pitched low. 

‘Do you have something to tell us by any chance, Mate, uh, several things?’ 

‘Um…No?’ Harry questioning, turning to Ron as he sat beside Hermione and his hand twitched around hers.

‘Are you sure?’ He asked. 

‘Yes?’ Harry continued to question. 

‘Harry, you don’t sound sure at all, we’re here for you, no matter what, aren’t we?’ Ron nodded quickly, flushing as Hermione’s hand turned around to twine with his. Harry rather thought they had something to tell him with that little display but he said nothing. 

Ron muttered, ‘Even if you are dating Malfoy’ and this was when Harry blanched, scrambling to get away from Malfoy whose hand had been inches from his face again, about to yet again shift a strand of Harry’s flyaway hair. 

‘I’m not date—I’m not dating Malfoy!’ He screeched, flailing as Malfoy drew him back by the hips. He went on for Harry as he sat huffing, cheeks puffed. 

‘We aren’t, I assure you. I just like teasing Potter and a possible good snog or two wouldn’t terribly go amiss. I have been wondering…’ His eyes seemed to travel away for a moment. ‘Plus—’ He leaned close to Harry and puffed a hot breath over his ear before whispering through Harry’s shiver. ‘Did you see the way Severus acted when he was out here earlier? And have you noticed, that in one of the upstairs rooms, the curtains have been partially drawn apart?’ 

Harry took a subtle look and sure enough, they had been. ‘Is that—’ 

It was Harry’s room. 

‘Severus hasn’t stopped watching since he entered that house, he’s been hovering.’ He pointed lowly. ‘It’s almost as if he’s jealous, wouldn’t you say Potter?’ Harry swallowed as he was cradled from behind by the blonde, having not let him go after he’d pulled him back down onto the sunbed. 

‘You know, don’t you?’ He whispered, making sure his friends were distracted enough by each other now to not hear the conversation, though Hermione did stare at him twice over Ron’s shoulder as if she knew Harry was talking about his secret with Malfoy instead. He felt guilty, he felt angry that he was even thinking about allowing Malfoy…He wasn’t sure, to allow Malfoy to do what he wanted? Just to get back somehow at Snape? 

‘I might do…’ He whispered into Harry’s ear, one hand around Harry’s wrist, the other around Harry’s midsection, keeping him glued firmly to the blonde’s front. He could feel the push of the other’s hardened penis at his back. ‘It’s hard to block out things when you aren’t allowed to use magic, isn’t it? You aren’t exactly quiet, and for that matter, neither is he.’ He pointed low. ‘But then, your friends arrived, he would have healed any plainly seen marks, so I couldn’t be sure.’ He breathed through his nose. ‘I told him yesterday that he should watch what he drank, obviously he ignored my advice. I don’t condone him doing it, he’s not himself, he’s irrational, and well, to be fair, I’m not he condones himself doing it—just with you here…He’s a bit…’ 

Harry breathed through this, ‘He’s an arsehole.’ 

‘Sure…’ Draco’s head tilted into Harry’s neck as he readily agreed. 

‘Thanks…I think…’ Harry wasn’t sure what he was even trying to thank the blonde for but the blonde shrugged into his neck and breathed in, whether he was smelling Harry or was just breathing, Harry didn’t know. ‘I really do accept that truce.’ 

‘Good’ He felt the smile in his neck. ‘We can make him mad with jealously.’ 

Harry bit his lip, staring under his fringe at the window and the shadow that flickered through the paned glass and fluttering curtains. 

‘You got it.’ He breathed.


End file.
